Collision
by NotACleverPenName
Summary: He was confident, flirtatious and sometimes awkward with his words. She was temperamental, vain and too sexy for her own good. And when they met, the results were nothing less than explosive.


Lucy stuffed another skirt into her already rather overstuffed bag, cursing when her make-up compact fell on the ground with a loud thump. Pausing, she strained her ears to detect any noises from the other residents of the home- she no longer considered it her home. When no well-meaning but slightly idiotic servant came running, she resumed her packing.

She worked in near-darkness; she didn't dare turn on a light, in fear of waking the man in the next room; her so-called father, she thought viciously as she shoved another bra into her bag. She considered for a moment; should she bring her nice party dress? She'd only worn it once, as high society protocol demanded, but it was a little showy. She dumped it into the "screams-I-used-be-rich-way-too-much" pile, which was getting a little bit to high. Time to make a trip to the dumpster, she thought grimly. That place smelled like junk.

Fifteen minutes later, she was set; almost everything she owned was in her two excessively expensive suitcases, which were her twelfth birthday presents from her father; to be frank, they were the best thing he had ever given to her. She turned and let out a breath; there was just one more thing. She slipped into her closet and bent over and pulled up a loose board, revealing the last personal possession in the room; a picture of Lucy, age 3, sitting on her father's lap. The two of them seemed so happy, almost like a real daughter and father; Jude Heartfilia's right arm was wrapped protectively around Lucy's back. Lucy stared at it for a moment, then walked out of the closet, to the open window and threw it as hard as she could. She listened for the splash as it landed in the slowly running creek that winded around the Heartfilia property.

Lucy sighed quietly, taking one final look at the room that she had grown up in for the first sixteen years of her life. And then she walked out into the hallway and never turned back. That night, without any plan, Lucy Heartfilia walked out on her life.

* * *

**2 years later...**

Lucy ducked her head as a gust of wind raked across the ridiculously large plaza. She clutched her papers underneath her arm and dove bravely into the overly huge crowd of suit-clad editors toward the annoyingly enormous statue of a terrifyingly giant man-seriously, what was it with these people and being big? _Of course_, she thought grimly, _it's not as if I haven't had experience with _those _kinds of people._ Practically every one of her father's associates had wanted nothing but to supersize _everything. _

She paused to examine her shoes and noticed, to her great horror, that her left boot, her precious black leather ankle boot, had an extremely noticeable brown splotch on the side. She cursed angrily, but she was too tired to do anything more. And it was only ten in the morning.

She restarted on her odyssey to the statue of the big man, who upon closer inspection, looked rather strange; he had a huge crown, a scruffy beard that was popular about a million years ago and an outdated set of robes. He looked like one of those cosplayers that Lucy sometimes saw in the streets. As she trudged toward him, she tripped again and tore her other shoe with a loud rip. She was now about to cry.

Lucy was so intently focused on the statue that she forgot that she was still moving and slammed headfirst into a solid, yet soft wall. A human wall.

Her steaming hot chai latte splashed over her shirt, scalding her chest. Her papers flew out of her hands and scattered across the plaza and her perfect hair, which she had spent a solid hour arranging that morning, was ruined. _No_, she thought, _not today._

She cursed herself for her clumsiness and her obstructor for his or her carelessness and pulled herself up, when she noticed a pair of expensive, Italian leather shoes. Her father's shoes. She panicked for a moment- had he found her? But the hand that reached down to pull her up was not her father's; it was young and clean, unlike her father's ink-stained, wrinkled hands.

"Ummm...are you sure you want to stay on the ground? Did you break something when you fell?" A husky voice asked. _Fell? _Lucy growled internally. _I didn't fall. You knocked into me._

She glared up at him. Who was this bothersomely attractive man (seriously, was there actually a hot guy at a book publishing company? This was a weird day) who dared to knock her down?

She pushed herself up, refusing the proffered hand and stood up to her full 165 centimeters.

"Okay, first off, are you completely blind? Am I really not that noticeable?" She demanded, trying to maintain .

"Ummm...no?" He replied, his flawless eyebrows (seriously, this guy was annoying. Why was he so good looking?)

Oh _no._ He did not just say she was not noticeable. For his information, Lucy had never ever ever failed to get picked up by a guy at a club. _Ever. _Guys practically threw themselves at her, or at her ample cleavage. And this guy had the nerve to say that she wasn't noticeable? She was sexy! She was beautiful! She was stunning and she was not going to let this boy off just because he had deep dark eyes that a girl could fall into and she couldn't help but notice that his hair was thick, like a shampoo commercial model's and-_No Lucy! Focus! _She shook her head to clear it._  
_

"Why? You think I'm plain or something? Or too short? Are you trying to do put me down?" She knew that her argument no longer had any rationale, but she kept going anyways.

"What? No, I-" He flashed an awkward smile (Clearly, he was not used to girls getting mad at him. Pretty boys and their idiocy; it made her blood boil even more).

"You know what? Don't explain! I don't want to hear an explanation. No! I want you to pay for this shirt, and these shoes, and this chai latte and then I want you to pick up all those papers. Now!" She smiled confidently; there was no man on this earth who would dare stand against an angry, SEXY woman.

"Uhh...yeah, right." He smirked. "Look, let me take you out to dinner. It's on me. How about...that place on White Drive?" Here he stopped, apparently expecting her to be impressed because White Drive was the highest of high society. Unfortunately for him, Lucy used to practically live on White Drive, because her parents had a penthouse there. "Here's my number."

He passed her a sheet of paper and grinned expectantly, apparently expecting Lucy to leap into his arms with excitement and thank him forever. Instead she slapped him hard across the face and stomped past him to pick up her papers.

"Hey! You know, not every girl gets to go out with me? This is an one-time opportunity. You can hang with this." He gestured at himself.

"Thanks, but I'll pass." She said cynically before stomping off in another direction.

* * *

Lucy threw the door open and slammed herself down on the red leather couch that lay next to the door, not noticing the tiny blue haired girl already sitting on it.

"Ahhh!" Levy squealed, annoyed. "Get off!" She stuck her nose back in her book.

"Where have you been?" A tall brunette named Cana asked drunkenly from the adjacent couch. "You look like hell!"

"Are you all right?" A shorter, attractive blonde asked concernedly.

"She's fine, Mirajane." The final resident of the apartment, a fierce-looking redhead named Erza cut in.

"You would not believe what happened to me." Lucy grumped as she got up and headed into the small room she and Levy shared.

She quickly explained the events that had occurred in her day.

"...and so, obviously, I couldn't go to the thing, so I went to the book store and hung around for the next six hours, which is also why I'm back so late."

"Sucks." Levy said and Erza and Mirajane nodded solemnly.

"Was he hot?" Cana asked.

"Cana!" came the annoyed protest from the other room.

"Just asking." Cana replied nonchalantly, taking another gulp of her beer.

Lucy mumbled something that nobody could make out.

"Louder!" Cana slurred as she flopped back on the couch and reached for another bear, ignoring at Erza and Mirajane's disapproving looks. She reached a little too far and fell face down on the floor with a loud "OOF!"

"Yes!" Lucy said, annoyed. She reemerged from her room dressed in a tight blue blouse and a short blue skirt with high black leather boots.

"Going somewhere?" Erza asked impassively.

"To the club. I need to drink and drown in my sorrows. Anyone coming?" She turned to the girls.

"I'll go!" Cana bounced up happily and slammed her head against the table.

"Me too!" Levy smiled. She had recently reached drinking age (18) and was now taking full advantage of it.

"I'll come." Mira smiled cheerfully, hopping up and heading out the door. Levy and Cana followed.

"Well, I suppose you all need a responsible driver." Erza observed and followed the other four girls out the door.


End file.
